


like turtles hiding in shells

by hyskoa



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25570981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyskoa/pseuds/hyskoa
Summary: and they go around and around and around, always one step away from each other.never too close, but never too far.
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	like turtles hiding in shells

How far apart we were then, each on our own end of the telephone line, farther apart than heaven and hell, and so complicated.

\- **Banana Yoshimoto** , N.P.

Killua stares at his cellphone, its weight heavier than it had ever been. 

_Should I_? He’s asked himself that question again and again and again. 

He opens his phone.

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Tap._

Killua navigates his phone with a certain ease; as if he’s done this many times before. 

And he has. 

Every single day since he last saw him. 

He opens an unsent message. 

To: Gon 

From: me 

hi! how are you?

A finger hovers over the **send** button. 

“Killua!” Alluka calls for him. 

He lets out a shaky sigh. 

_Tomorrow_ , he thinks. _I’ll send it tomorrow_.

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

Gon doesn’t use his phone. 

It’s not because he isn’t as technologically adept as other kids his age. He just doesn’t use it. 

He thinks that there are too many memories of him and his best friend—wait, could Gon still call him that?—stored on his phone. 

The photo album contained silly pictures of them doing equally silly things.

The call log was full of his name and barely anyone else’s. 

The inbox was full of messages about the most trivial things like the store running out of chocolate robots, a weird bug he found, or a new pair of shoes he wanted. 

Even though they were always together, rarely ever apart, they sent each other too many messages; called each other one too many times. 

Gon takes a deep breath and opens his phone. 

He stares at the unsent message sitting in his drafts. 

To: Killua

From: me

Hi!!! How have you and Alluka been?

A finger hovers over the **send** button. 

“Gon, come back in, it’s time for lunch!” His aunt calls for him. 

He locks his phone and, shoving it into his pocket, tells himself he’ll send the message tomorrow.

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂ 

It’s been two days. 

Killua hasn’t touched his phone since Alluka called him two days ago. 

He thinks he’s a coward. Curses himself for having too much pride.

Was it really pride?

Or was it just the fear weighing him down? 

He stares at his phone once more; at the unsent message in his drafts that he’d typed out God knows how long ago. 

If he sends this, would Gon reply?

The innumerable possibilities makes his chest clench, the pain almost unbearable. 

He takes a deep breath, steadying himself, and closes the message. 

_It’s just my pride_ , he tells himself. _That’s all_.

He opens the photo album in turn, going through the hundreds of photos they’ve taken together. 

_Tap_. 

He stares at a photo Kite took of them just before everything went south; the last ever photo of the two of them. 

His expression is pained but there’s a smile on his face when he zooms into the bright and wide smile on Gon’s face. 

Then, vivid memories of Gon lying in a hospital bed fills his mind. 

Half dead, unsure whether he’d still make it to see the next day. 

He grits his teeth and locks his phone, almost hurling it across the room. 

_Not today_ , he thinks. _I won’t send him the message today_. 

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

It’s midnight.

Gon is sitting on the floor, staring at the pieces of what used to be a radio.

He misses Killua, he thinks.

He looks for his phone.

When he finds it, he opens his inbox.

From: Killua

To: me

grrrr some kid beat me to the last box of sweets in this store im so mad rn!!!!!!

From: Killua

to : me

would i look good in these clothes or nah?

[1 image attached] 

He views his replies.

To: Killua

From: me

Killua, those clothes look a little weird, but yeah!!! I think they’d look nice on you :) 

To: Killua

From: me

Hey, do you want fried pork for dinner? There’s a restaurant here that looks pretty interesting! It’s cheap too :o 

He balls his fists so hard, his knuckles turn white.

His eyes catch the number of drafts on his phone.

 **Drafts: 1** , it read.

His chest aches like never before.

Gon never knew losing a friend could be so painful.

 _Not tonight_ , he tells himself. _I can’t say hi tonight_.

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

He wakes up at dawn.

To his side, Alluka is still peacefully asleep.

He slips out of bed quietly as not to wake them up. 

His hand searches the bedside table for his phone.

Once the device is in his hands, he steps out unto the balcony.

The moon is still up, the sky dark. He checks the time.

4:20 am. 

It’s cold outside and it smells of rain. 

He wonders if it rained last night.

He leans forward onto the railings. It’s damp, so it must’ve rained while they were asleep.

He stays like that for what seems like an eternity, ignoring the uncomfortable dampness seeping into his sleeves.

Killua wonders if the sun’s going to rise soon.

He wonders if he should wait for it.

Lately, even the sunlight seemed so cold and he’s no longer sure if he’s still sane. _There’s no way sunlight could be cold. The sun’s a literal ball of flames_.

The sun rises at exactly five in the morning.

The first rays remind him of Gon.

They always have.

Killua motions to unlock his phone, but it doesn’t turn on.

The black screen displays the image of an empty battery and he begins to wonder if it’s divine intervention.

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

There’s a box of chocolate robots on the dining table.

“Where’d this come from?” he asks his aunt.

“I saw a box at the store today and figured I’d get some,” she replies, setting down a cup of tea. “Doesn’t your friend like them? That Killua boy.”

He pauses. 

“He does,” he says. 

“Tell him to come by soon, won’t you? It’s been a while.” She smiles sweetly.

He murmurs an okay and sits parallel to her. 

She offers him a piece. 

He takes it, a small smile on his face. 

Memories of their time in Heaven’s Arena floods his mind. 

_Hey, what are you doing with your money?_

_Me? I’m gonna buy a bunch of chocolate robots! Like, a lifetime’s worth maybe. That's what I did before._

Gon remembers thinking that it was such a waste; that much money wasted on something like chocolate. 

But now he realises that it was just like Killua to buy a lifetime’s worth of chocolate with a bunch of money.

As he reaches for another piece, he reminds himself to send Killua the message later that night.

(He ends up forgetting.)

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

His dreams are filled with memories.

Some nights, they’re bright and warm memories.

On other nights, they’re dark and cold. 

Killua especially hates the latter. 

And tonight, _oh_ tonight, he dreams of the latter. 

It’s always the same dream too.

It starts out like this:

The two of them are walking side by side in the forest of his home country, the lush green trees providing them shade from the bright sun. 

They talk about anything and everything. 

_Just like old times_ , he thinks.

But then, just as those words play through his mind, Gon moves further and further away.

And he runs and he runs and he runs, but he can’t catch up.

He can still hear Gon talking; he talks as if Killua’s still standing by his side.

The forest disappears into the background.

So does the grass and everything else.

They disappear behind them one by one until there’s nothing but the all too harsh sunlight.

At this point, all Killua could think about is one thing.

_Gon, you are light._

_Sometimes you shine so brightly, I must look away._

He crouches over, ever so desperately trying to catch his breath

When he looks up, Gon is so, _so_ far away.

“But even so, is it still okay if I stay by your side?” He says this out loud in hopes that his dear friend would look back and acknowledge him.

He never does.

In the morning, Killua wakes up with a start, cold sweat dripping down his face.

His hands quiver when he reaches for his phone. 

His wallpaper is still a photo of the two of them. 

Today as well, he does not send the message in his drafts.

He acknowledges the reason why.

Killua is afraid, nothing more, nothing less.

He’s afraid that, if he _does_ send the message, Gon will, just like in his dream, keep walking away.

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

Gon finds himself with more free time than usual. 

He sits at the cliff he and Killua sat at when he first came to visit.

He doesn’t realise it, but he sits here very often.

Whenever he looks out at the sea, he wonders where Killua is and what he’s currently doing.

Is he having fun?

What’s he up to right now?

Is he eating well?

And the question that weighs down on his mind is this:

 _Does he miss me at all_?

Sometimes, Gon would have a dream.

He isn’t too sure if it’s a nightmare or just a regular dream.

His dream always starts off the same.

He and Killua take a walk in the forest side by side, the trees providing them a refuge from the heat of the sun.

And they talk about anything and everything.

 _Just like we used to_ , he’d say to himself before moving onto another topic.

But just as he says those words in his head, time moves faster and faster.

Then, Killua disappears.

He tries to stop time. He tries to pause and turn around to look for him, but he can’t.

He keeps talking and talking and talking.

Until the forest shrinks away behind him along with everything else.

He’s left alone in a brightly lit space with nothing but a harsh shade of white everywhere he looks.

“Killua?” His voice echoes.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

There’s no reply.

In the morning, he wakes up feeling heavy; as if the weight of the world were resting on his shoulders and chest.

When he reaches out for his phone, he sees that his wallpaper is still the same.

It’s a photo of the two of them, brightly smiling under the sun.

The very same Killua had on his phone.

Gon realises the reason as to why he hasn’t sent the message.

He’s afraid that if he does, Killua, just like in his dream, won’t respond.

The thought alone is enough to make his chest hurt.

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

_Kite was saying it too! Wherever we are, we’re always going to be friends_!

 **You got it**!

Killua stares at the murky green waters of the pond, his phone tucked away in the pocket of his shorts.

It’s heavy. He feels as if it was the weight of the world he carried in his pockets, not a phone.

Killua hasn’t opened it in days. Not since he’d had that dream.

**Well, I’ll hit you up every now and then!**

_Lies_ , he thinks. _It’s all just lies_.

It’s been months and he still hasn’t sent him anything. Then again, neither has Gon.

“Some kind of friend I am.” He says this out loud, as if he were spitting venom.

He wonders if this is how he wants it to end. 

Just like that? The question follows him around like the plague. 

He knows what happened wasn’t something they could sweep under the rug. 

He can still hear Gon’s words clear as day. 

_I’ll do this myself. It doesn’t concern you, Killua._

He picks up a stone and hurls it across the pond angrily.

“Some kind of friend you are!” He convinces himself he’s enraged; that they couldn’t be friends anymore.

But Killua knows he’s not fooling anyone. 

Killua knows that he misses Gon.

That, if given the chance, he’d travel the world with Gon without second thought. 

He knows that, even after everything’s been said and done, Gon was still his best friend.

Even if Gon no longer saw him that way.

He balls his fists so tightly, his knuckles turn white.

He grits his teeth in frustration.

Killua picks up another stone, angling himself to throw it harder and farther than the last one. 

It sinks as soon as he throws it.

He watches in silence as it sinks further and further down.

“No.” He picks up another, clenching it tightly in his hand. "This isn’t how it’s going to end.”

He throws it.

It skips across the pond.

Once. 

Twice. 

Thrice. 

It skips two more times before sinking.

Killua pulls out his phone, turning it on.

When he sees his wallpaper, a smile crosses his face.

A genuine smile. The first one in months.

He opens his inbox.

**Drafts: 1**

He opens the only message in his drafts.

To: Gon 

From: me 

hi! how are you?

He finds the message too empty, so he attaches a photo he and Alluka took the day before.

He revises the contents of his message as well, thinking that it was too stiff; too formal. 

Too unlike him.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Killua clicks the **send** button.

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

It’s a quarter past midnight when Gon receives the message.

When he sees the sender, he hesitates opening it.

 _Is this really okay_ ? He asks himself this as his finger hovers over the **open message** button.

When he spots the empty box of chocolate robots on his bedside table, he decides that it _was_ okay.

Killua was still his best friend after all.

Even after everything’s been said and done.

Even if Killua no longer saw him that way.

And so, with a small smile on his face, he finally opens the message.

  
  


**To: Gon**

**From: Killua**

**hey! what time is it there? its pretty early here!! hope ur doin well!!**

**u better reply 2 me when u get this or ill get rly mad!!!!!!** **(＃｀д´)ﾉ**

**[1 image attached]**

**Author's Note:**

> i LITERALLY know nothing but pain. this came to me while i was sitting in my room, thinking of the killugon reunion togashi will never give us. im ngl listening to [ my tears ricochet ](https://open.spotify.com/track/1MgV7FIyNxIG7WzMRJV5HC?si=VHHUP1mCQBWbZZuQYc_GRg) from folklore helped fuel the angst LMFAO 
> 
> ALSO! i got a ko-fi so if u enjoyed this n have sum cash to spare pls... I Am Begging.... u can click [ here! ](https://ko-fi.com/hyskoa) if u want to donate @kouraism on twt if u wanna see me talk about hq and hxh nonstop !!
> 
> ps: big thank u to kip for the title inspo!! couldnt have done it w/o u :chefskiss:


End file.
